Poems of a Young Man: “Zen (Winter) Meatloaf” (© KPKeelan)



I grab for the pencil-

waiting for the ticker-tape

that runs through my brain

to kick into gear,

spewing words

splayed across my forehead

like an electronic billboard.


People stew in chameleon gelatin

making Zen Meatloaf…

A room full of chairs.

Someone rises from one.

The lamplight casts a shadow

across the imprint left by his butt,

the vinyl still warm.

A salbug walks Across the tile floor,

as immense to him as the vast Sahara.

I am the bug.

The floor is the world.

And like the tiny salbug

my armor is borne on my back.

When frightened,

I simply curl up


like a clenched fist-

and wait for my fear to fly-

pacing the floor some more.

Today, Sara said:


there is strength in gentleness.

I had to ask:

“What does ‘sometimes’ mean?”

My mind is a meatloaf.

A Zen meatloaf.


(November 1977)



About KPKeelan

Fool, Philosopher, Lover & Dreamer, Benign TROUBLEMAKER, King and Jester of KPKworld, an online portal to visual and linguistic mystery, befuddlement and delight.
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One Response to Poems of a Young Man: “Zen (Winter) Meatloaf” (© KPKeelan)

  1. Howard Wu says:

    I still can’t take all those supplemental word list serious until “zen” is comsidered a proper scrabble word. Like I mean “jesuit”? Even my iPad babble fish speller knows which one of those is a common word and which is formal noun. And it is not Jesuit.


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